Welcome to Mills & Boon. Jennifer Rae

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took out a skirt and blouse, and black high-heeled shoes. I put on red lipstick, which I’d almost forgotten I owned, and a headband. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. It looked like me, but not me. It looked like the me that I used to be, in high school. Before Mom had gotten sick. Before Madison had taken the dream I’d wanted.

       You’re strong, Diana. And brave. Why are you suddenly pretending not to be?

      As I came downstairs, I could hear that the three of them had already started dinner without me in the medieval great hall. Well, Edward had told me twenty minutes. He was probably starting to wonder if I’d decided to pack for London.

      I was still wondering myself.

      I could play it safe, say nothing tonight and quietly leave with Madison, back to my old life. I could plan their wedding, be silently helpful and invisible.

      Or—

      Or I could be brave enough to be myself. And tell Jason and Madison how I really felt. Then I could remain at Penryth Hall—but I’d almost certainly end up in Edward’s bed.

       Let him keep your heart. I will have your body. Very soon. And we both know it.

      Yes. I swallowed. If I stayed here, it would happen. Sooner or later. Probably sooner. I wouldn’t be able to resist for much longer. I’d give my virginity to a playboy who wanted only a physical affair. It would be just sex, as he’d said.

      Sex. And fire.

      I felt dizzy just thinking of it.

      So which would it be?

      Remain invisible, mute and untouched?

      Or risk everything, be honest and brave—but know that it would irrevocably change my life?

      Standing outside the great hall, I still didn’t know. I was caught between longing and fear. But I was already late. Clutching my hands into fists, I took a deep breath and walked in.

      Madison had appropriated the place of honor at the long, candlelit dining table, with Jason on her right side and Edward on her left. Edward saw me, and his expression sharpened.

      “You’re here,” he said, motioning toward the place to his left. Avoiding his gaze, I slid quietly into the chair beside him at the table.

      Glancing at me dismissively, my stepsister didn’t break stride in her story, which was mostly explaining the unbearable burdens of being young, rich, famous and beautiful. “You’d think I’d be used to press junkets by now,” she finished with a sigh, moving her hands gracefully over the long, gleaming table, to make her enormous diamond ring sparkle in the candlelight. “But the one this morning was especially exhausting. They barely let me plug the movie. They just wanted to know about our engagement.” She gave Jason a flirtatious sideways glance. “They wanted every detail. How he proposed, when the wedding will be...” Madison turned to me. “Why did you take so long, Diana? We’re halfway through our dinner.”

      It was worth it, to miss most of your story, I thought. But I didn’t have the nerve to say it.

      “Sorry,” I mumbled, and reaching for the silver tray at the center of the table, I pulled off the lid and served myself some rosemary lamb, herbed red potatoes and vegetables. Then I saw the basket, and gave a happy smile. “Mrs. MacWhirter made fresh rolls!”

      “I asked her to, this morning,” Edward said, smiling back. “I know they’re your favorite.”

      “Bread makes you fat, you know,” Madison said.

      But skipping bread makes you mean, I thought. I said only, “Aren’t Damian and Luis joining us?”

      “They’re eating in the kitchen with the staff.”

      “Smart,” I mumbled.

      “What?” Madison said.

      “Nothing.” I sighed. I felt Edward tighten up beside me. I could almost feel his glower.

      I tried to eat, but sitting with Madison and Edward I could barely taste the food. Even the freshly baked white bun tasted ashy.

      “Anyway,” Madison continued, “sometimes I just get tired of all the attention.” She yawned in a showy way, stretching her hands upward, showing off her figure to clear advantage. Then she flashed her beguiling smile, her trademark that no man could resist, first at Jason, then—at Edward. “Our engagement is news all over the world. My fans everywhere are thrilled... They’re so sweet, sending congratulations and gifts.” She gave a tinkly laugh that sounded like music. “Though I’ve had a few male fans threaten to throw themselves out windows unless I cancel the wedding. You know how it is, I’m sure.” Reaching out, she patted Edward’s hand. “How difficult it is, when people want you constantly.”

      My eyes went wide as I stared at Madison’s perfectly manicured hand. Patting over Edward’s. Slowly. Languorously. Like a dance.

      Pat, pat, pat.

      With the same hand that held the ten-carat diamond engagement ring given to her by another man.

      She wanted Edward’s attention now, too, I realized. Why was I surprised? It had happened all our lives. Madison always had to be the center of male approval. Even when we were teenagers, and my mother was dying, Madison had snuck away with the pool cleaner and smashed her father’s car into a palm tree—effectively pulling Howard’s attention away from my mom.

      All our lives, I’d tried to look out for Madison. I’d tried to treat her like the sister I’d always wanted, back when I was a lonely only child. But she’d just taken from me, and taken more.

      But as I watched her hand with the huge diamond ring pat Edward’s on the table—pat, pat, pat—I suddenly couldn’t stand it one second more.

      “Are you seriously flirting with Edward now?” I said incredulously. “What the hell is wrong with you, Madison?”

      She stared at me, her gorgeous pink mouth a round O. Then she ripped her hand off Edward’s as if it had burned her. “I wasn’t flirting with him! I’m an engaged woman!” She glared at me, then turned to give her fiancé a tender glance. “I’m in love with Jason.”

      “Are you? Are you really? Do you even know what it means?”

      “Of course I do—we’re engaged!”

      “So what? You’ve been engaged five times!”

      “Really?” Edward said, looking at me with growing joy.

      “Five?” Jason gasped.

      “You’re crazy!” she said in outrage. Then, as the two men stared at her, she moderated her expression and said more calmly, “I haven’t been engaged five times.”

      “No? Let’s see.” I tilted my head thoughtfully. “That punk rock musician you met on Hollywood Boulevard...”

      “You call that an engagement?” Glancing at Jason and Edward, she trilled a little laugh. “I was fifteen! It lasted six days!”

      “But

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